


overnight

by Faetality



Series: Steter Bingo Angst/Dark Fic 2018 [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 23:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16274687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faetality/pseuds/Faetality





	overnight

Peter had never been the one the pack turned to when they needed a soft touch. Knowledge, blood, a shield to stand behind, but never for that care, barring a few of the youngest children. Having Stiles confide in him, to have his friendship, his trust, his  _ love  _ was new and exciting and that he helped Peter to reforge old connections with what little blood he had left, it was more than he could ever have asked for. But he was human. He was fragile. He was sick. 

Noah was the one to call him, they spoke little outside of Stiles’ forced interactions and Peter knew the sheriff didn’t trust him. It didn’t bother him but it bothered Stiles so Peter tried to get on better terms with his lover’s father. But they never called. The shake in his voice, the exhaustion and the fear was palpable even through the phone and Peter’s heart ratcheted into his throat. 

“Where is he? What’s wrong? 

They didn’t know, he was in testing, he was out of it, he was… no he wasn’t dying. He  _ wasn’t.  _ He was strong. Peter made it to the hospital and he wasn’t sure how. His hands were shaking and he must’ve looked bad because both Noah and Melissa checked in on him, the latter dropping a blanket around his shoulders sometime into the night. Hospitals and he weren’t on the best of terms in the first place but knowing that Stiles’ was here, somewhere in pain and anxious and that he  _ wasn’t with him  _ was driving him up the wall. Noah went back first and he knew he couldn’t argue, couldn’t ask the man not to see his son, not to comfort his son. It didn’t mean his wolf stopped pacing. 

“Peter.” 

He up on his feet in seconds. “What is it?” 

“They don’t know. He’s, they don’t know and they’re running out of ideas. He’s in a room now if you want to come see him.”

 

It smelled like death and anxiety. Stiles was as pale as the sheets he laid on, shivering with an IV in the back of his hand, sweat clung to his brow and when Peter approached there was a tiny sound from his throat that made his wolf whine in response. It’d been less than a day since they’d seen each other. Less than a day since Peter had kissed him and sent him to go spend time with the pack.  _ What happened?  _ Noah hovered outside in the hall, stopping to talk to a few of the nurses while Peter took a moment. His fingers brush over Stiles’ forehead, “Oh, baby.” he wants to sit, to climb beside him and hold him and make whatever  _ this  _ was go away. He needed that. He sits on his side, takes his hand and draws on the pain under the surface. He pulls and pulls, dipping his head to rest against the same hand he clasps. 

Maybe this was magic. They could fix that, reverse whatever it was and Stiles would be as good as new in a day. Noah joins him sometime later, minutes or an hour he wouldn’t know. He doesn’t say a word, just sits on Stiles’ other side and they wait. For a sigh, a beep, for it all to stop they don't know. There are tests waiting to come back and a young man who needed them so they would wait. 

Stiles’ heart trips during the night and Peter startles so badly he scrapes the chair over the floor, looking up to see big brown eyes looking at him, chapped lips parted like he wants to speak. Peter beats him to it.

“Hey.” Peter doesn’t trust his voice to form more than the one syllable and the fingers in his own squeeze, eyes drift shut.

“What’s wrong with me?” he’s scared. He’s tired. Peter tries not to mirror that.

“They don’t know but we're gonna figure it out. You’re gonna be alright.” 

“‘On’t f’l like I am.” 

Peter clung tighter, he was going to be alright. He had to be. Otherwise, what was the point of living? If he couldn't save just one person, what use was he?


End file.
